Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
A strangled sound gets caught in my throat as he buries himself as deep as I can take him. There’s so much pressure with the vibrator still plunged in my ass, I feel like I’m going to explode.
Angelo doesn’t hold back, brutalizing my poor, tender pussy with every thrust until he makes me scream when I come again.
My body collapses against the cushion beneath me, head lolled, chest squeezing as I try to catch my breath. But there’s no time. He pulls out of me, only to replace his cock with the vibrator again, turning it up to a punishing level that forces another orgasm out of me within seconds.
I’m wrung out, completely spent, and could swear I have nothing left to give as he pulls the vibrator from my ass and replaces it with his cock. He’s so much bigger, there’s no blunting the feeling as he stretches me wide and fucks me hard. His hips slam into my ass and jerk my body against the restraints with every impact.
“Have anything to tell me yet?” he grunts.
This is his form of torture, and even though I’m not sure I can withstand it, I don’t say a word. I give him nothing.
I come again—losing track of how many that is. It all blends together, and this time, I squirt all over him.
“Fuck,” he groans, fingers biting into me.
He keeps going, growling out the same question over and over as he pounds me into oblivion. I whimper, barely able to lift my head as my body betrays me and comes again. It goes on and on until he wrings out every last orgasm I can possibly endure. It’s pure agony, and every nerve ending is raw when he finally buries himself and comes in my ass with a shudder.
I feel him everywhere. I can still taste his cum in my throat and his warmth inside me. My pussy throbs, and when he finally pulls the vibrator from me, tears streak down my face. But even that requires too much energy, and eventually those dry up too. Every muscle in my body aches as he leans over me and strokes my jaw.
“Anything left?”
I shake my head. I lost count of how many times he made me scream. Too many, but he’s still not satisfied. Even as he touches me with tenderness, I can hear the edge in his voice. His frustration. His anger. The betrayal still lingering between us like a bomb that might detonate at any moment.
“You left me,” I croak, embarrassed when I start to cry for real.
I’m overstimulated and raw, and not just physically, but emotionally.
“Everyone out,” Angelo says.
At his order, the room clears, and the door shuts behind them, leaving me alone with my husband. That privacy offers me the safety I need as a sob breaks free.
Angelo mutters a low curse, working quickly to undo my restraints.
I can’t even lift my head, and all my limbs are numb when he picks me up. He carries me to another chair and sits down with me in his lap, cradling my head against his chest as he massages the feeling back into my body.
“I didn’t leave you,” he rasps. “I was with you both nights, cara. You just didn’t see me.”
His words should comfort me, but they don’t. Something has broken in me, and I can’t seem to shut off my emotions anymore.
“What could be so bad that you won’t tell me?” he presses.
The confession is on my lips. But fear whispers through me.
I’d rather have his anger than nothing at all.
I draw in a staggered breath and meet his gaze. “Can we go home now?”
A long, tense moment of silence passes before he nods. Then he rises, wraps me in a blanket, and takes me home.
36
ANGELO
“Relax, bella. We’ll stay here a while.”
Abella leans back against me, the warm water in the tub enveloping us. She can barely keep her eyes open as I wash her. Her head lolls back on my chest, her body depleted from exhaustion.
I mind-fucked her and wrung everything out of her—except for the one thing I needed. Her secrets still loom over us like a dark cloud, and she refuses to give them up. I wanted to break her tonight for everything she’s kept from me, but not like this.
The first time I saw her break down, I thought she was processing the things she’d learned about her father. The next morning, she shut off her emotions like a switch, and it bothered me. But tonight, I saw a glimpse into something else. This isn’t the kind of pain that fades with time. There’s a pit of despair inside her, buried so deep nobody else can see it.
I don’t know the source of that wound, and it frustrates me to no end.
As long as she refuses to tell me the truth, my resentment for her will continue to war with my obsession. From one moment to the next, I don’t know whether I want to punish her or take care of her.